About a year ago, two friends of mine got married in a quickie civil wedding ceremony, having discovered that they were expecting a little sooner than they might have been expecting. Now, a year later, they decided to combine the religious blessing of their wedding, the christening of their new daughter, and a party for their 30th birthdays all into one big party. Hence, on a Friday afternoon, I found myself getting all dressed up, putting a "fascinator" in my hair, and making my way out to Great St. Bartholemew's church.
As is per usual, I found myself running a bit behind, and so when I arrived at the Tube platform and there was a train just about to leave, I dashed for it. I got caught in the door however, and whilst I made it into the train, the door had pretty much closed on my arm, and boy did it hurt! That's definitely going to leave a mark.
When I got to the church, the bride spotted me looking somewhat in vain for an open seat, and instead guided me to the other side of the church, where I was to sit with all of the godparents, sitting right behind her, the groom, and the baby. I felt very honoured.
The service itself was nice enough, although I had to wonder, why don't they give you the music to the hymns? I've always found that aspect of CoE services to be a bit challenging, as they basically expect everyone to know the hymns from singing them growing up, and hence there's no longer a need for a hymnal with music. As someone who does go to church fairly regularly, I dislike the feeling of being one of those people in church who obviously doesn't go enough to know what's going on. After all, I'm a fairly religious, moral person who did grow up in the church. Perhaps an indication that I should make my attendance at church a bit more regular?
After the service, I spotted JG, a chap who went to my college. JG and I are part of the same larger circle of friends, and about three years ago, one wild and crazy night, JG and I hooked up. Nothing really happened (I'm a girl with standards and limits, after all), but JG can as a result be humorously nervous and quiet around me, I think because of the inevitable awkwardness such things bring as a result.
A number of us then decided to make our way to the club on the Tube, so we walked along. JG originally suggested going to Mansion House and walking through St. James' Park, but with St. Paul's station right there, it seemed easier just to hop on and take the Tube with less walking. I was wondering if JG was going to insist on going his own way, but he followed me like an obedient puppy dog. Ah yes, good boy.
We ended up standing with a few people, including Bella, a girl I'd met before, who was wearing a crazy big hat. She pointed out that it was actually fantastic on the Tube, as everyone gave her a wide berth around her! I definitely need a big hat like that! (Although quite a few girls were wearing pillbox hats as well, which I could definitely see becoming a fan of!)
We got to the club and I went downstairs to freshen up a bit (it was soooooo hot out!) and then went upstairs to the reception. I found myself chatting with Simon, a young man I've become well-acquainted with at these sorts of events, who once again was making me swoon with his charm. I always find myself wondering, how on earth is that boy only 20 years old? If only all young men had his panache!
When I mentioned that the club had a terrace, Simon's ears perked up, so I took him out there to get some fresh air. Out there, we ran into two girls who Simon knew, and I found myself chatting to one of them and found her to be absolutely delightful.
More and more the evening was just random conversations with various people, and everyone progressing out to the terrace. We had a bit of dinner, the groom gave a speech, and finally I found myself sitting outside chatting with a most wonderfully random group. JG was there, although surprisingly didn't seem to know much what to do with himself if he wasn't near me.
Finally we reached the end of the evening, when it was time to go home. As the entire group stood out there on the kerb, Toby started checking where people were going, and JG and I assured him, "We'll share a cab, we're going in the same direction." I can't even be sure who said it, but it was as though all of a sudden we were thinking the same thing. Total mind connection. So another cab pulled up, we piled in, and all of a sudden, JG just put an arm around me and I snuggled into his embrace. I still can't even quite fathom how it all happened, given that he had been so awkward with me all evening, but suddenly it seemed to be the most natural thing to do. And we talked and kissed, and then my stop was approaching. And so it was a moment of reckoning.
Perhaps it was because it had recently been my birthday and I was feeling the need to feel attractive to a boy. Maybe it was that it had been so long since I'd kissed a boy that I was starting to worry I'd forget how if I didn't just throw myself in and remember how it all worked. (Much like going for a swim, you have to do it every so often just to reassure yourself that you know how). Maybe it was the secure knowledge that I'd known JG for years, and we'd been here before. He wouldn't pressure me to do anything I didn't want to do, because in the most random way, he's absolutely a perfect gentleman. Maybe it was knowing that there was no way I'd be interested in JG in real life, so it was a wonderfully strings-free situation. But in the end, I think it comes down to that ineffable thing: Chemistry. There is absolutely no reason I should be attracted to JG, but snuggled in his arms there, I didn't want to leave.
So I warned him, "You know it would be like the worst high-school date ever, right? If you want to come up, we can cuddle, but it's not going anywhere. And you'd have to sneak out before my flatmate wakes up. It's really pretty much about the most spectacularly bad offer ever."
But I suppose this is why I count JG among my friends. He just smiled, kissed me, and said, "We'll only do whatever you want."
And so we made our way upstairs, and then engaged in the most PG-13 action ever, lots of kissing and snuggling. But then of course came the awkward talking, the inevitable by-product of realising that when you're not going too far, you've got to find something else to do. Which somehow forced the revelation that although I was fine with kissing JG, there was absolutely no way in hell I would ever consider dating him. He drinks too much, he's a chain-smoker, and is seen as somewhat of a joke among our group of friends. (Of course, it's only in my crowd that a man with a BA and an MPhil from Cambridge, who was educated at Westminster, perhaps THE top school in England, and who works at the Treasury, could be seen as somewhat of a loser). Yet of course, since I knew him so well and he was one of our "crowd", it was the reason I felt okay to be alone with him like this. As I pointed out, unlike some random guy, JG came with "references." Even if meant I knew too much about him to date him.
Which, I suppose is something to remember. Even heavy-drinking, chain-smoking, total loser boys have feeling too. I thought I'd phrased it pretty delicately, but I think he was a bit hurt, nonetheless. And it's funny, in our usual opinion that boys don't care about anything besides sex, we forget that they have feelings we need to watch out for.
In the end, I'm not sure how much of what I said played a part, but at 5 AM he decided to call a cab and go home. And in truth, whilst I felt like I should protest a bit more, get him to stay and reassure him that he was still welcomed, I couldn't help but think about how easy it would make my life if when my flatmate woke up in the morning, he was already gone. So perhaps I didn't protest as much as I could have.
So while ostensibly I'd gotten exactly what I wanted (confirmation of my attractiveness, fun playtime without going too far, and all with no-strings attached from a boy who left before my flatmate could find out), I yet felt somewhat unfulfilled. By not going too far, it felt like I'd awoken a sleeping hungry bear with the smell of bacon, but then had been foolish enough to withhold the actual bacon. And now that hungry bear really wanted bacon. Why couldn't I have been smart enough just to let sleeping bears lie? And by getting involved with a friend who I didn't want to date, I'd now run the risk of him never talking to me again because I'd hurt his feelings so. Great. Well done, me.
Obviously, one more indication that, when it comes to boys, I obviously have no idea what I'm doing.
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